


Armor Reclaimed

by Xanderisanxious413



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, not proof read, probably inconsistent pov sorry, probably no smut maybe, this is my first fic in like a decade help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanderisanxious413/pseuds/Xanderisanxious413
Summary: things were as dull as ever for you at home on Tatooine being a mechanic in such a small village. that is until a Mandalorian enters your make-shift mechanics shop. when he discovers beskar armor among your scraps you see a perfect opportunity to bargain your way off of this dust ball
Relationships: Din Djarin/Male Reader, Din Djarin/Original Male Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader
Kudos: 41





	Armor Reclaimed

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: 
> 
> alright so this is my first fic in a long time and ive been obsessed with the mandalorian lately. but gosh darn it there are hardly any x male readers anywhere. so i took it upon myself to try and make one that people will enjoy. i'm sorry if this isn't too original or anything. i'm also currently in progress of like reading/ watching up on Star Wars movies and shows, please forgive any inaccuracies ;w; 
> 
> i based the reader on an OC i've had for a while. the only thing really distinctive about my oc thats relevant is that he's missing his right eye. i hope you all enjoy and i hope that this will help me get back into writing :) 
> 
> Word Count: 2400

The morning suns filtered through the dusty curtains straight into your face. Your nose wrinkles and you bring your head to cover your eyes, letting out a sleepy groan. After a few minutes of wrestling the sleep away you swing your legs over the edge of your makeshift bed and rub your eye. Clanking is heard as you sweep scrap away from the foot of your bed and head to the fresher. 

You step out of the fresher with damp hair that you’re toweling off. When you look up you can see yourself in the reflection. A long scar runs down the right side of your face, severing your brow in half, going down to your chin. A closed eyelid shields the empty socket, the puckered skin of a long healed whip wound. Similar wounds decorate your body, but the one on your face was certainly the most noticeable. You avert your gaze from the reflection and got dressed in a simple tunic and brown pants before headed out of your home, putting up a sign that reads 

“CLOSED: ASLEEP OR GONE DRINKING” 

You run your hand through your hair as you walk down the small street to the cantina, despite the earliness voices and laughter fill the air as you near the building. You push through into the cantina and stride up to the bar, leaning on the counter. You take out a few credits and set them down “the usual ‘Cee.” you grumble to the droid tending the bar. The C5 unit looks at you before pulling out a bottle of alcohol and a cup, setting it down and going to get some breakfast for you. Whispers and jeers are heard from behind you, commenting about your unusually early appearance. You huff and pour yourself a drink, taking a big drink. 

~~~~~~

The Razor Crest comes to rest just outside of a small town, the starship a bit worse for wear. The last bounty had caught on sooner than Din Djarin had anticipated and lead a chase by ship. He managed to do some damage to the Crest before Din was able to apprehend them and now he was frozen in carbonite. Din flips some switches to turn off the ship, turning in his pilot’s chair and getting up. He climbs down from the cockpit and presses the button to open the hull, stepping down he presses a button on his vembrace to close the ship up. Din looks out towards the town and begins the walk, hoping to find a mechanic to fix his ship. 

After being pointed in the right direction from some frightened locals he approaches the little mechanics shop you owned, looking down at the sign he began pounding on the door for a few minutes, hoping to wake whoever was inside. After it was obvious nobody was inside he let out a sigh and turned to go find the cantina. 

As always the entrance of a Mandalorian into a cantina drew gazes and harsh,panicked whispers from the patrons. Din paid no mind to the whispers and strides over to the counter, sighing inwardly at the sight of a droid bartending. He notices a man perhaps just a bit younger than he was drinking something straight from the bottle as he picked at some food. 

“How can i help you, sir?” the C5 droid asks as it cleans a glass

“I’m looking for the town mechanic. They weren’t at their shop so i came here” Din begrudgingly replied to the droid. He took note of the grumble that came from the (h/c) man but waited for the droid to answer.

“That would be the man right next to you” the droid answers, turning it’s optical sensors to the man. 

“Gee, thanks ‘Cee. You’re a real pal” the man grumbled, running his hand through his damp (h/c) hair.

Din looks at the drinking man, his helmet tilted up “i need you to take a look at my ship” he says bluntly, to which you scoff “kinda busy if you hadn’t noticed” he bit back, clearly not in the mood to be interrupted in his self destruction. Din sighs and grabs his pouch of credits, setting them down on the counter. 

You look up finally and Din can see years of abuse and not taking care of yourself had aged your face. Your (e/c) eye dull and tired looking, your shoulders slumped like a defeated man. You don’t keep his gaze, quickly turning to eye the pouch “they better not be imp credits” you grumble. Din quirks a brow under his helmet, most mechanics he knew of would take anything that spent. “New Republic credits.” he replied flatly, watching as you weighed the pouch in your scarred hand. “Fine. you can park it behind my shop. But i’m finishing my breakfast first” you grumble back, opening the pouch and handing the droid some credits. The C5 unit sets another bottle of whatever you were drinking and takes the credits. 

Din watches you carefully before nodding curtly, turning on his heel to leave the building without another word. 

~~~~~

You had hoped that the Mandalorian had come to your small town for a bounty or something, but hearing their starship fly overhead told you that they would need your services. You groaned inwardly and took another long swig from the bottle, praying that the bounty hunter would just pass through for some supplies. When he entered you refused to look at whomever was entering, hoping that the newcomer would just overlook you but that hope was shattered when ‘Cee ratted you out. 

After that brief exchange with the Mandalorian you decided to take your time finishing your food, estimating that it would take a while for the man to get back to his ship and dock it in your backyard. You heave a heavy sigh and drink, slowly finishing your breakfast you decide it's time when you hear the Mandalorian’s ship fly overhead. Setting down another few credits you grab the full bottle and make your way out of the cantina,stumbling on your own feet as you leave. 

~~~~~

Din parks the Razor Crest behind the shop, noticing a sort of ring of scrap,junk and trash in the back. Once the Crest is powered down he steps out of his ship, looking around the area. He was on his guard, realizing this was a good ambush spot. Even if he didnt have a bounty on him, there were those that sought to take the beskar he had in his helmet. Tatooine was not exactly the most safe planet around, even for an Outer Rim planet. He leaned against his ship, his arms crossed over his chest,waiting impatiently for you to arrive. 

The back door opens and you stumble out of the shop, some scrap having tripped you up in front of the door. Cursing, you kick the scrap metal back into the shop and make your way to the man, looking up at the Crest with a strangely attentive gaze “well, she’s certainly seen better days” you remark, taking out a scanner and aiming it at the ship “Pre-Empire?” you ask, glancing at Din. he simply nods “can you fix her?” he asked in an impatient tone, not wanting to waste any more time on this planet than necessary. 

You tuck the scanner into your tool belt and put your hands on your hips, looking from him to the ship “yeah, I reckon I can. What you gave me should be just enough to cover gettin’ her in working order” you reply, your voice slurred a bit making Din doubt your capabilities at the moment. 

You raise the bottle to your lips and take a long drink “alright, vamoose, i need room t’ work” you say, making a shooing motion with your hands “find yourself a job or somethin’ i’ll be awhile” 

Din fixes you with a stare, which you return, before he nods again and begins to walk back into the town. “Dont let any droids touch my ship” he throws over his shoulder

“Do I look like I can afford any pit droids?” you call back as you get to work. 

Din scoffs to himself as he lets himself in and through your shop back to the cantina. “He better not fuck up my ship” he grumbles under his breath, going to the bar to inquire about any work he could get done while he waited. 

~~~~~

You wipe the sweat from your forehead as you replace a panel in the cockpit. The hyperdrive was fried, so you had to go through the trouble of replacing and soldering the wires into place. You lean against the pilot’s chair with a heavy sigh. At least you were getting paid well for the repairs, complicated as they may be. You take a moment to look around the ship,noticing some old modifications and how there seemed to be many things on the ship in crates. “Bit of a hoarder huh? We’ve got that in common” you say to yourself before heaving onto your feet to do a once around of the ship to make sure you haven't missed anything. 

You walk around the ship, using your scanner to take note of anything you couldn’t see that you may have missed. Once you’re satisfied with the repairs of the ship you plop onto the ground, leaning against one of the many piles of scrap out there, leaning your head back and crossing your arms over your chest. Might as well take a nap before the Mandalorian returns. Your mind quickly lulls you into a dreamless sleep. 

~~~~~

Finding no quick jobs Din had taken to cleaning his weapons in a solitary booth to kill time, sipping on some water. He heard no explosions while he waited, so that might be a good sign. He looks out of a window, noticing that the suns had begun to dip below the horizon. He holsters his blaster and gets up from the booth, rolling his neck to loosen up before he pays and leaves for the shop. 

Din makes his way through the shop into the back again. When he exits he sees the Crest in probably the best shape she’s been in since he got her. He swivels his head around to search for you when he sees you resting propped up against a pile of scrap. He decides against disturbing you for now and inspect his ship. 

The ship was better than he had hoped for, though with how completely wasted you were that bar wasn’t too high. He nodded appreciatively at the expertly done work when a glint caught his eye. He turns to look at the glint and approaches another pile of trash and scrap metal. He reached out a gloved hand to pick up a helmet. The t-shaped visor and weight told him this was a Mandalorian helmet. His shoulders stiffen as he looks deeper in the pile, finding a chestplate,backplate and shoulder plate. He whips around to view your sleeping form, feeling anger boil his blood he quickly advances on you, holding the helmet in his hand, he grabs your shoulder and shakes you aggressively “wake up!” Din snaps. 

A high pitched, fear filled yelp fills the air as you instinctively hold up your arms to protect your face “no--please!!” you shout, still being shaken by Din. your (e/c) gaze looks around wildly before focusing on Din’s helmet “kriffing Maker you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaim, your features hardening into irritation though the trembling of your shoulders told Din that you were afraid. He thrust the helmet into your chest “where the hell did you get this?!” he barked. Confused, you look at the helmet, then up to Din “i found it while i was collecting scrap” you say defensively, which was entirely true. You had the habit of collecting any piece of metal you could find, not always looking into what they were made of, as they were almost always just durasteel scraps from ships or broken down podracers.

“Look you can believe me or not” you say harshly, glaring into the helmet shoved into your chest “I’m a lot of things but murderer or thief is not one of them” you growl, pushing his hand off of your shoulder, fighting your urge to flee from the large man shouting at you. Suddenly an idea forms in your inebriated mind “you can have the armor, i don’t give a kriff about it but only...if you give me passage on your ship. Think of it as payment for transport off of this kriffing dustball” you say, holding Din’s gaze. The aggression previously exuded by the man was replaced by skepticism and mild surprise. He yanks the helmet back, beginning to pace around in thought. Bringing back such a large amount of beskar would most certainly be of benefit to the tribe. Perhaps even allow him a new piece of armor. He will admit being on that ship for weeks on end without anyone around was growing tiresome, but of all the people he could invite onto his ship this skinny, drunkard was low on the list. However, he could use an on board mechanic, help save some credits in case the Crest needed more repairs in the future. Din lets out a growl of frustration before he turns back to you. “Fine. until you find a planet you wish to live on you can come aboard. I’ll pay you while you’re with me to make sure the Crest is taken care of” he says curtly, plainly not sounding pleased with the offer. 

You stare up at the Mandalorian for several long moments before you nod, getting to your feet and holding your callused hand out to shake his gloved one. He hesitates for a moment before he clasps his much larger hand in yours. “Be packed by suns up” he tells you. You nod in understanding before going into your shop, kicking the now empty bottle into the pile. 

~~~~~

A/N:

Alright. I hope you all have enjoyed my first chapter. I’m sorry if it seems a bit all over the place. I’ll do my best to update when i can. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this!! if you have any plot suggestions i would certainly appreciate it, cause at the moment i'm not entirely sure where i'll be going with this ;w;


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